


Eight

by kendrasaunders



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Hanukkah, Jewish Characters, Many pairings! Many friends!!!, Multi, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: LegendsHanukkah one-shots from my Tumblr. Feed your Hanukkah Fever with these festive fics!





	1. double team

**Author's Note:**

> some characters are canonically jewish, others have jewishness thrust upon them. by me. no takebacks! 
> 
> please seek medical attention if you have hanukkah fever stretching on for more than eight nights.

**prompt** : no specific prompt, i just really wanted to write this  
 **ship** : ray/nora/mona

\--

“NO-RA,” Mona announces, coming in with a big, white box and a smile that rivals it in size. “Happy Hanukkah!”

“Oh,” Nora says, as she usually does when Mona comes in. A kind of flustered acknowledgement, fairly happy to see Mona and always a little confused as to how she’s always so… much like that. “Hi. It’s- Yeah.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Mona says, which to Nora suggests there had been something she should’ve been worried about. So now she is worried. Just a little. “We’d never leave you out!”

Nora catches the we and feels something like fondness in her chest for the little tag-team that never seems to leave her alone. Sometimes it’s just Mona, sometimes it’s just Ray, but she can’t help but have the strongest preference for both. “Is he… in the box?”

“No,” Mona says. “He’s in my pocket!”

Ray gracelessly falls out of Nora’s sweater pocket, about the size of an action figure, tumbling towards the ground before catching himself and hovering back up.

“Enjoy the ride?” Nora asks, watching Ray resize himself, dwarfing Mona in height.

He tugs off his helmet, cheeks slightly flushed. “Sure!” he says, and Nora doubts he listened to the question. He’s here to celebrate, same as Mona, and that means it’s time for smiling and hugging and the three of them cuddling together on her bed.

“He made the menorah,” Mona says, opening the box to reveal a simple gold chanukiah. “We’ve been texting all week about whether or not it should be a dinosaur menorah. But we were like, Nora seems into more classic stuff-”

“You do,” Ray interjects.

“So he went classic,” Mona says. “And I got the jelly donuts.”

Nora nibbles on her lip for a moment. If she breaks into a grin, they’ll know just how touched she is, how happy they’ve made her. She offers half a smile instead, looking up at them from her desk. “I do like jelly donuts.”

This, to Ray and Mona, is a substantial victory- Mona brings over the box while Ray takes off the ATOM suit.

“And it’s beautiful, Ray,” Nora adds. “Though I don’t remember telling either of you I’m Jewish.”

“I had a feeling,” Ray says, as Nora takes her first (of what will be many) donuts, pressing her donut against Mona’s in a sort of substitute toast. “You know?”

Nora looks at Mona, and Nora looks at Ray. “Sure,” she mimics, finding it to be a throughly appropriate answer. “I haven’t celebrated in a long time, though.”

“I’m not Jewish,” Mona adds. “But I love holidays. And I wanted to make you happy!”

“Me too!” Ray says, letting himself in and sitting down on Nora’s bed. He and Mona high five, and she settles down beside him.

Nora considers the situation for a moment, before taking out the menorah and putting it on her desk. The candles are resting in a corner of the big box, and she pulls those out, too, noting that they’ve gone for gold and white.

“Well,” Nora says, pulling out two gold candles. “Then I guess we’ll teach you, Mona.”

Mona beams with the brightness dialed up to 11, watching Nora put the candles in place. “I’ve got matches!”

“No need,” Nora says. “I wouldn’t be very impressive if I couldn’t-” The tip of her index finger burns with a small flame. “Baby magic.”

Nora and Ray clap for her, no sarcasm, no malice, both so fascinated by her and her ability to do the simplest of magical tasks.

It’s kind of nice, the combination of the elements, the idea that both of these things, her magic and her celebration, can be innate. Can be good. She lights the shamash and lets her magic go out. “If I’m being honest,” Nora says. “I don’t think I remember the prayers, either.”

Ray looks at them both for a moment, following Nora’s admission with a lopsided grin. “I’ll do it,” he says. “By night eight, you’ll both be experts.”

“Night eight?” Nora asks. “We’re gonna do this for all eight nights?”

“Should we not?” Mona asks. “We had like, a menu planned, and the presents!”

Nora hadn’t even thought of the presents. Hadn’t allowed herself to think about it, in all honesty. “No, it’s-” She nods. “I’d like that.”

“Oh, good,” Ray says. “Because we did buy and/or make all your presents already.”

“We have gift receipts!” Mona adds.

Nora tilts her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. She braces one hand on her knee. She’s smiling, too much teeth, grinning like an idiot down at her feet, despite herself. “Of course you do,” she says. She reaches for another donut.


	2. a long december

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this prompt just read "atomwave + hanukkah" so here it is

**prompt** : atomwave + hanukkah  
 **ship** : what it says on the tin

  
\--

  
Mick wears the sweater. He doesn’t like it, but he likes Ray, so he does.

Ray beams at him, picking what Mick assumes is an invisible bit of lint off his shoulder and then smoothing the sweater over with his hand. The touch is nice enough, the gesture of it.

Mick would never admit just how cute Ray is, especially cute when he’s fussing. He makes little motions with his lips. Sometimes he juts out his lower lip in concern. Sometimes he presses his lips together, like it’ll help his concentration.

Despite the inch Ray has on him, Mick never quite acknowledges that he has to look up at Ray a bit. It feels level, the two of them, as Mick idly moves his hand along the line of Ray’s jaw. Not really for any particular reason, except that he’s kind of fond of him.

“You happy?” Mick asks, taking Ray’s chin, noting the smug little way Ray smiles at him when he thinks he’s about to be kissed.

“You look so cute,” Ray says, and Mick is certain he doesn’t because he’s never been cute once in his life, but Ray’s entitled to be wrong, he supposes.

Ray bounces once on his heels, idly, still waiting for that kiss.

“Brat,” Mick says, and for a moment Ray looks a little surprised, but Mick kisses him quickly enough that he’s satisfied, taking Mick by the back of the head and holding him close.

It’s long and tender enough that Mick can count the sighs Ray makes, the content feeling of the two of them together, kissing.

“You did-” Mick says, feeling softer than he’d ever admit. “Promise me dinner, Haircut.”

“Oh!” Ray says, not quite getting the sparkle out of his gaze, the gushy affection mixed with holiday excitement. “Yes! Sit! I’ll get the soup to start!”

Mick isn’t much for taking orders, but he chooses to listen, taking a seat at the table Ray had so carefully set for the two of them.

The sun’s long set and the menorah’s lit, shimmering away on the windowsill. Mick tries not to linger on the flames for too long, not on the menorah and not on the candle beside it, the little memorial Ray had insisted on.

“Careful!” Ray says, coming back with a bowl full of broth and matzot balls. “It’s very hot.”

Mick blinks the visions of flickering light out of his head, instead opting to ignore Ray’s warnings and start in anyway.

Ray returns moments after with his own bowl, sitting down across the table and waiting for his soup to cool. “How’s it compare?”

“Hn?” Mick asks, spoon to his lips.

“To Snart’s,” Ray says. “When he’d make it- I didn’t know what you guys did but-”

Mick considers this, deciding to rest his spoon down. “Lenny wasn’t much for cooking,” he says. “Usually him and me and Lissie when to a diner.”

“Oh,” Ray says. “Are you uh- Are you sure she didn’t want to come over?”

“She said she had her own thing,” Mick says. He watches Ray’s lips again. The telltale frown of worry, of a job not properly done. “Ray,” he says. “Raymond. It’s great. This is your holiday. Theirs. Not really- It’s not really mine.”

“Of course it is,” Ray says, decidedly, almost stern. “Because you’re here to celebrate. With me. With… all of us.”

Mick thinks it would be best to continue eating. It isn’t unpleasant, the way he feels, but it’s not nice either, and he’d rather think about Ray and dinner now than Len and dinner then. It’s just the way things are.

“Happy Hannukah,” Mick says, meeting Ray’s gaze. “Raymond.”

Ray gives a smile that’s too tender and too passionate and too loving. “I love you,” he says. “Happy Hanukkah.”


End file.
